


La vie en rose

by maniasquared



Series: Stucky One-Shots and Drabbles [16]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cute, Cutesy, Dancing, Dancing and Singing, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Boyfriends, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Mush, Inspired by Music, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Music, Singing, Slow Dancing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 09:56:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18938602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maniasquared/pseuds/maniasquared
Summary: "His head swims pleasantly and he shifts to look up at his partner. Bucky has this expression on his face as if Steve hung the moon and stars just for him. It makes Steve melt; he’s like putty in Bucky’s hands. He stands on his tiptoes and brushes their lips together and he swears that angels started singing. He repeats the motion again to make sure and once he does, he’s convinced of it. There’s nothing sweeter than Bucky’s kisses. He’s going to give Steve a cavity at some point, but Steve doesn’t care. He steals them every chance he gets anyway, call him a criminal."Or: two idiots in love are dancing in the kitchen.





	La vie en rose

**Author's Note:**

> "When you kiss me, Heaven sighs, and though I close my eyes, I see la vie en rose"
> 
> Title from "La Vie En Rose" by Louis Armstrong.
> 
> It is one of my favorite songs of all time, and I kind of want it to be my first dance song when I get married.
> 
> This is un-beta'd.

It’s only four in the afternoon on a Wednesday and Bucky’s slightly intoxicated; so is Steve. They’ve got the oldies playing softly in the corner from their speaker and yellow-orange sunlight spills through the windows in their kitchen. Steve’s never been much for dancing, but Bucky loves it, so of course, that’s what they’re doing.

Steve would do anything for Bucky as long as it makes him happy, and dancing is not the  _ worst _ thing he could do. He really doesn’t mind all that much, after all. He gets to be close to Bucky; there’s no pressure, no thinking needed. Everything comes easy when he’s with Bucky. He’s absolutely smitten. The world could end in this instant and he would perfectly fine with it.

Tucking his face into Bucky’s chest, Steve closes his eyes and listens to the steady heartbeat and breathes in as much of him as possible with his partly-functional lungs. He rests his arms on his partner’s shoulders, mindlessly carding through Bucky’s hair at the base of his neck. He hums in contentment when Bucky kisses his temple; he can feel the smile on his partner’s lips as he does. Bucky returns his chin on top of Steve’s head, pulling them closer together in a tight embrace around the waist.

They twist and turn around lazily, not quite in time with the music (in fact, they’re moving entirely too slow for the current song), but neither of them seems to care. Nothing exists outside their bubble so there’s no reason to care about anything besides each other. Bucky lets his eyes drift shut as well, letting himself get lost in the feeling of being in love, and man oh man was he ever. He tells Steve by running a thumb on the dip of his back one, twice, three times. Steve giggles because it tickles and Bucky  _ knows _ that, but he makes no move to stop him. Bucky feels the laughter on his sternum and it sinks in to fill up his whole body with light only Steve can give him.

Steve’s hands drop from Bucky’s hair and the absence sends shivers down his spine as the cool air takes their place. He thinks it’s an accident until he senses Steve’s sly smile squishing into his breastbone. This gets him chuckling, shaking his head. His whole body feels fuzzy but most certainly not from the alcohol. Steve just has that effect on him. He tries to memorize the way Steve’s arms feel on his shoulders and the way Steve’s face lays against his chest, the way Steve’s breathing would have them touching more and they way Steve fit so perfectly when Bucky holds him like this.

One of his hands travels up, fingers running through the golden hair as they continue swaying. The floorboards creak out a song of their own under two pairs of stocking feet. It’s beautiful, Steve thinks, a wonderful symphony solely made up of wood. Just for them, and no one else, to hear. Bucky presses Steve closer to his chest, to his heart, and Steve sighs. His head swims pleasantly and he shifts to look up at his partner. Bucky has this expression on his face as if Steve hung the moon and stars just for him. It makes Steve melt; he’s like putty in Bucky’s hands. He stands on his tiptoes and brushes their lips together and he swears that angels started singing. He repeats the motion again to make sure and once he does, he’s convinced of it. There’s nothing sweeter than Bucky’s kisses. He’s going to give Steve a cavity at some point, but Steve doesn’t care. He steals them every chance he gets anyway, call him a criminal.

“It should be illegal how good you taste,” Steve complains in a hushed tone. His partner scrunches his nose up as he laughs and catches their lips together once again. If Bucky’s kisses are a drug, then Steve’s a hopeless junkie. They’re so enveloped in each other, so in love, it aches in a tender way.

Steve slides his hands to cup Bucky’s face, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. The sound of a trumpet fills the still air and Bucky gasps, eyes widening. He exhales, “I love this song, Stevie.” He nuzzles into Steve’s neck, kissing there a few times before mumbling against the skin, “It reminds me of you.”

“Yeah?” He blushes, ducking his head down. Bucky gently guides him to look into his eyes, nodding with the softest smile. “Remind me of the name again?”

He licks his lips, leaning down, “ _ La Vie En Rose. _ ”

Steve can feel the breath on his mouth and he drinks in those words, savoring the flavor of every syllable. “Louis Armstrong, right?” He receives an affirmative hum in response. He murmurs, “I love it when you talk like that.” He connects them with open-mouthed kisses.

“Like what?” Bucky’s eyes crinkle at the edges. 

“You know, all French-like….”

“Seriously, Stevie, all  _ French _ like?”

Steve blushes, indicating his answer. Bucky shakes his head slightly as he slowly drags Steve up to him. They’re laughing more than actually kissing, their mouths clumsy. Spinning, still spinning in their kitchen, still dancing.

When Bucky starts singing along, their lips are barely a few inches apart. “ _ Hold me close and hold me fast, the magic spell you cast, this is la vie en rose… _ .” He holds Steve’s face in his hands, their foreheads touching. “ _ When you kiss me, Heaven sighs… and though I close my eyes, I see la vie en rose _ ….”

Steve’s red in his cheeks, on his ears, on his neck. Bucky thinks it’s absolutely adorable; he nips at Steve’s plump bottom lip, earning a yelp. “You jerk.”

Buck doesn’t answer, just keeps singing, keeping up with the verse he missed, “ _ And when you speak, angels sing from above, everyday words seem to turn into love songs… give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be la vie en rose _ ….”

The song returns to the soothing trumpet, indicating it coming to a close. Steve kisses him with much less elegance than the last time. Instead of it being sweet and delicate, instead of appreciating it, he crashes their lips together and it leans a little desperate. Not lustful, though, only loving. “I love you. I love you so much, Buck.”

Bucky rubs their noses, then kisses the tip of his partner’s, and he feels his heart push against his ribs painfully as if it’s trying to jump right into Steve’s palms. He thinks it just might. Out of breath, he says, “I love you, too. More than anything I’ve ever know, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful, Stevie.” Their mouths meet sloppily. “Doll, you’re so fucking gorgeous, inside and out. Baby doll, you’re my best guy.”

If Bucky didn’t know better, he would say that Steve’s face can’t get  _ more _ flushed and then he’d be proven wrong. It makes his heart only beat harder.

“You’re such a sap,” Steve chuckles, resting his hands over Bucky’s chest. “Holy shit, Buck, your heart’s racing. Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?”

“Yeah, Stevie, I’m feeling sick alright,” Bucky smiles like a dope. “I’m  _ sick _ and  _ drunk _ , but not in the ways you’d think. I’m lovesick, I’m drunk in love. With you, baby doll, only you. All the time. Always you.”

“Oh, my god, you really  _ are _ a sap,” Steve throws his head back, rolling his eyes. Bucky quickly brings his teeth to the exposed flesh. He feels the vibrations from Steve’s surprised gasp and then from the approving noises coming from his partner’s throat.

When he pulls back, he counters, “But you love it. I know you do.”

His boyfriend suppresses a grin and fails. “Yeah, I do, I really do, you big lug.” Steve runs his nimble fingers across the planes of Bucky’s shoulders and biceps. He feels like he’s floating. “I can’t seem to get enough of you, sugar.”

The words slip out before his clouded brain can stop him, “Marry me. Marry me, Stevie.”

Steve halts, their dancing stops, everything seems to stop. Bucky knows he’s fucked it up now. He can’t think of something to say, finally at a loss for words  _ once _ in his goddamn life. Sure, they’ve been together for almost five years now, but they’ve never talked about getting married. Never really talked about the future farther than a few  _ months _ out, or maybe a  _ year _ at most. They don’t talk about that kind of future. They still clutch each other, staring. The music still plays, but there’s so much silence between them. So much stillness.

Bucky’s mind is going a mile a minute, panicking. He finally gets thoughts from his head to his mouth, some of them surprising him as he says them aloud, “I-I… it’s fine if you don’t want to, Stevie. If you… if you think it’s too soon or we’re too young, or… or something, it’s okay. I’m okay with that, I just—I’m ready. I’ve never felt more ready in my whole life. You’ve given me everything and more, and I want to return that—kindness and gratitude every day of the rest of my life. If I can, of course—if you’d let me—if you’d want that. But if you’re not ready, I understand. I can wait—hell—I’d wait forever if it meant I can spend my time with you. I love you, I love you so much, so fucking much. I love you like crazy and I want to marry you, I want to buy a house with you, I want to have kids with you, I want to grow old with you. I want that, I want it all, I want everything you’re willing to give me. I want  _ you _ .”

He stops, out of breath again. He waits, he can’t get a read on Steve. He simply stands there, shocked. Until finally, “Yes.” Bucky looks at him, hopeful as ever. “Yes, Bucky, I’ll marry you. I want everything you just said and more. I love you— _ fucking hell _ —I love you.”

Bucky laughs, smiling from ear to ear. They kiss as they’ve never kissed before, full of unwavering commitment, full of promises, full of memories to come. Bucky’s crying and Steve’s wiping the tears away while his own well up in the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve a man like Bucky Barnes, but he’s damn glad he did whatever that was.

He shakes his head with a grin, receiving an amused ‘what?’ He answers, chuckling, “It’s nothing—it’s just that was definitely  _ not _ an orthodox way of proposing.”

“Baby doll, when have we ever been orthodox? I think everything we’ve done has been unorthodox.”

“That’s true,” Steve rests his cheek back against Bucky’s chest, his  _ fiance’s _ chest.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll do the proper proposal and all, just you wait,” Bucky kisses the top of his partner’s head. They start swaying to the music again. “I’ll try to make it as much of a surprise as I can, but since you’re already in the loop, that might be a little difficult.”

“It’ll be perfect no matter what. I know it,” Steve mumbles, nuzzling in deeper.

“God, I hope so….” Bucky runs one of his hands over the small of Steve’s back, traveling up and down the spine. “At least I know the answer before I do it.”

“Hush, you know I would have said yes.”

He whines, “But there’s always that fear, Stevie.  _ Always _ .”

“You have nothing to fear, Buck.”

“You’re right, I have nothing to fear. Especially when it’s just me and my best guy.”

They continuing dancing and laughing and kissing for hours until their bodies are too exhausted to go on. They lay in bed, holding each other tight as they drift off, moving one day closer to their future.


End file.
